Shackles
by S J Smith
Summary: Ed, a tombstone. First person POV; present tense. Future!Fic, mangaverse. Mentions of Ed/Winry.


Shackles

S J Smith

Rating: Anyone can read

Summary: Ed, a tombstone.

A.N: First person POV; present tense. Future!Fic, mangaverse. Much thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits.

Disclaimer: When everyone's in bed, I sekritly pose as Hiromu Arakawa…not.

* * *

Hey, Hughes. I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while.

Things have been pretty…hectic. They're finally starting to slow down, though. Guess you've heard that the bastard was promoted and there's a council, now; trying to decide what direction to lead the country in. He's part of that. So is Major Armstrong's sister – did you ever meet her? She's scarier than Hawkeye, if you can believe that.

The good news is that Al got his body back. That…well, I'll tell you. I was scared. I thought I'd have to die myself to get him back whole but…we exchanged something else, instead – our Dad…well, immortality is worth more than one soul, I guess. He gave it up, for Al. That's…a long story, in and of itself. I'll come back sometime and tell it to you. You know, I hated him for so long and then he went and did that….

But I wanted to tell you about Al. I knew you'd want to know. He's fine; skinny, damn, he's so thin. But he's already putting on weight and the doctors say he can go home to Rezembool soon and finish recuperating there. Both Winry and Granny Pinako – you'd have liked her, I bet – came to Central as soon as they heard. They're taking good care of us, not that I really need much taking care of. But Winry wants to design me new automail. She says that I transmuted the metal on my arm too much during the fighting and the composition is off. I'm not gonna be the one arguing with her. I like my skull too much.

Al…he's like…I can't even begin to explain it, Hughes. I feel like, for once, things are really going to be okay. Gracia made us a pie – I didn't tell her that Winry'd made us each one, brought 'em with her on the train – and Elicia colored pictures for us to put up in the hospital room. Yeah, heh, I was in the hospital for a little while but you know me, nothing keeps me down for too long. Al's so amazing, though. I almost hate to leave him but Winry shoos me out of the room when the doctors come in, since I nearly threw a fit when they were taking all those blood samples and things that first day. C'mon, he just got his body back and they were already doing all this work? He needed whatever he had in him, just to stay alive.

…yeah, he was that skinny. It scared me, Hughes, the first time I saw him when I went through that gate. I didn't know if I could get his body and soul back together fast enough. And then, when Al was having problems with his armor body…well, let's just say we're lucky the fight happened when it did.

But I didn't come here to tell you about the fight. I figure that's some historian's job. Tell you a secret – I really don't want to remember it. I've got enough nightmares haunting me and those…things the military sent out after us…if Winry wasn't there, I think I'd wake up screaming every night.

…yeah…didn't mean to just spring it on you like that. We're waiting for a bit before we get married; she wants to finish her apprenticeship in Rush Valley and me…well, I want Al to be able to stand with me and keep me from fainting. So it'll be a while but…I thought you'd want to know you were right. I'm sure you'd tell me you told me so, wouldn't you?

Anyway. I didn't…didn't get my arm and leg back, but…it's not a bad thing. I mean, I guess some people would think that automail ties me down, you know? But I think it's helped me. Not that I'd want to push some eleven year old kid into getting it. But making the decision to have the surgery; learning to live with it; it's not so bad. I can do just as much with the automail as I could with flesh limbs; more maybe. I'm stronger with them; fast, too; if some of my opponents are right.

I guess some people would think that they're shackles, weighing me down. Me…I think they're wings, to let me fly.

Listen, I sound like an old man, talking about his life. Gotta stop doing that.

I'll see you next time, Hughes. Winry'd probably want to come; Al, too, if I have to carry him on my back.

…miss you.

* * *


End file.
